


A Snippet from The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Katie “Pidge” Holt, Witch

by rinthegreat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Good Omens, Angel/Demon Relationship, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: The Good Omens AU.Gift for Dazagy
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	A Snippet from The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Katie “Pidge” Holt, Witch

**Author's Note:**

> I participated in the Valentine's Day Klance Exchange this year and I was Dazagy's secret cupid. She requested a Good Omens AU and my first thought was "Yes! I just finished reading that a few months ago!" Well... I think she meant the show not the book. Whoops... I hope they're not too different!
> 
> This was really fun to write! Check out Daz's socials: [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/dazagydoesart/?igshid=17ym5se3sd4b1) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dazagy) | [Tumblr](https://dazagy.tumblr.com/) | [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/dazagy)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy ❤

“Keith!” a panicked shout rings through the air.

Keith, the angel in question, doesn’t bother looking up from his book. He knows that voice, knows that exact tone when yelling his name. It always sounds like an emergency because, to Lance, it is.

Well, it is to Keith too, he supposes.

As a demon, Lance can’t simply make Lance-level emergencies. He makes society-level, continent-level, Earth-level emergencies. Keith should never have become friends with a demon like him. Or any demon. No angel worth their wings fraternizes with the enemy, especially as much as Keith ‘fraternizes’ with Lance. (And as far as he’s concerned, ‘making love’ isn’t a sin.)

“Keith.” This time the voice is too close; Lance’s breath tickles the back of Keith’s neck, raising goosebumps. He’s just doing this to get a rise out of Keith.

Unfortunately, it works.

“ _What_ , Lance?” he asks in the most scathing tone he can manage. When it comes to Lance, though, the best he can accomplish is mild irritation. No matter how much Keith tries, it’s impossible for him to get genuinely mad at Lance.

“We have a problem,” Lance says.

Keith sighs. “How is this different than any other day?”

Lance makes problems. That’s what he was created to do. But Lance is as bad of a demon as Keith is an angel, because his problems are never quite _evil_ enough. And he always needs Keith’s help to untangle them so he doesn’t get in trouble with the powers below.

“It’s different,” Lance insists. “Trust me.”

For just about anything else, Keith would. Trust Lance, that is. He trusts Lance more than he trusts most of the other angels he knows. Possibly even more than he trusts The Almighty. But no, he pushes that thought away. Any day now, he’s going to lose his wings for thinking things like that.

But when it comes to Lance’s ‘problems,’ Keith’s not so naïve. Lance hasn’t come up with anything world-ending in several millennia – something Keith takes credit for – and this is hardly going to be any different. Nothing the two of them can’t handle themselves the way they always do.

“Okay,” Keith says, taking the bait for now. “What is it then?”

“We lost the antichrist.”

Silence.

Then –

Keith snorts. “No we didn’t.”

“We did,” Lance says. “And don’t laugh.”

“The Galra family have the best security in the world,” Keith reminds him. “He’s probably hiding inside the house. Have you checked the garage?” There are three of them. Keith should know; he’s lost Lotor in them more than once.

“That’s not what I mean,” Lance insists.

“What _do_ you mean then?”

“I mean, he’s not the antichrist.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Lotor?”

“Yes, Lotor.”

“Lotor Galra, who is being raised by Zarkon Galra, hand-picked by Satan himself –”

“Allegedly,” Lance interjects.

“Hand-picked by alleged Satan himself –” Keith corrects with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh shove it,” Lance says, but there’s a small smile playing at his lips as well. The situation can’t be that dire if Keith’s terrible jokes still make Lance smile. “But yes, I do mean that Lotor.”

“I’m sure he’s doing fine,” Keith says soothingly. “Remember, he doesn’t start bringing about the end of the world until his 12th birthday.”

This time, Lance is the one who sighs. “Keith.”

“Lance.”

“Today _is_ Lotor’s 12th birthday.”

For the first time this century, Lance actually catches him off guard.

Keith blinks. “What?”

“Remember?” Lance says, even though Keith clearly doesn’t. “I mentioned the party, and you said _I hate fun things_ –”

“I did not say that,” Keith scoffs.

“– _Especially if it involves children, demons, and the son of Lucifer_ –“

“I might’ve said that.”

“Stop interrupting,” Lance snaps, smile gone from his face. “I’m being serious.”

And isn’t _that_ the strangest thing? Lance being serious while Keith pokes fun at him. It’s a role reversal he’d never thought would happen. Realizing that, Keith finally lets the weight of Lance’s words sink in. _Lotor might not be the antichrist_. An icy shiver runs down his spine. “How do you know?” he asks, all joking gone from his tone. Almighty Lord above, he’d never thought he’d see the day when he wished Lance were pulling some terrible demon trick on him. But here they are.

“The hound,” Lance says. “It didn’t show up.”

Keith nods. He’s the logical one; he knows his role here, and he can play it. His mind works 150% faster and more efficient than a human’s can. He uses that to sort through hundreds of theories, scenarios, and possibilities before saying, “The hound might be waiting for the party to end. Less conspicuous that way.” It’s a tenuous reason at best, but most other possibilities side with Lance’s statement that they’d been wrong for twelve years.

Lance shakes his head. “Hell doesn’t do subtle. And even if they did, a Hell Hound only answers to its master. This one wouldn’t know it needed to be subtle until Lotor told it so.”

Keith nods. “Of course. Is it possible it was waylaid on the way out of Hell? Perhaps the signs aren’t ready based on our – my – interference.” That is rather the point of this, after all.

Heaven and Hell are gearing up for the final battle, but Keith and Lance are fighting for their common ground: Earth. They might report to different masters, might have different points of view on most things, might _technically_ be mortal enemies, but they both love this planet. They love humans. And this is the only place they can be together; their employers wouldn’t let them visit each other any other way. If they fail, Keith will likely be stripped of his wings, and banished from Heaven forever. The Almighty isn’t notoriously forgiving of fallen angels, after all.

Keith would _prefer_ not to Fall; that’s why he’s working so hard to keep Earth up and working. Because their other option – aside from falling and hoping Hell accepts him – is purgatory. A bland space worse than Heaven and Hell combined. Keith shivers at the mere thought.

Earth is the better option. The apocalypse _must_ be stopped. Then they can stay here together. No fear. No doubt. No torture. Just Keith, Lance, and Keith’s bookstore.

“No,” Lance says, pulling Keith back to their conversation. “Hell called mid-party. The hound was sent. It just never appeared.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That it arrived.” Of course Lance would lie to cover it up; he’s a demon, he doesn’t have issues with lying.

If cursing weren’t against Keith’s religion, he would’ve let out a whole string of them. Instead, he takes a steadying breath and says, “We have a problem.”

Lance’s shoulders drop immediately, as if he’d let out a large breath of air he hadn’t needed to hold. “Thank Beelzebub you see it my way.”

“Do you have a plan?” he asks.

“I was hoping you would.”

There it is. The reason – aside from liking humans – that Lance is a terrible demon. Because he’s creative enough to get himself into messes, but needs an angel to pull him out of them.

“Have the horsemen been deployed?” Keith asks.

Lance shrugs. “Above my pay grade.”

Keith reaches inside himself and finds a piece of divinity strong enough to prevent him from responding to Lance in any way unbefitting of an angel of Heaven. He races through his thoughts again, searching for a way out, a plan, clues, any discrepancies over the past twelve –

Wait.

“Have you heard anything about Altea recently?” Keith asks slowly, not wanting the demon to get excited about something that’s only the ghost of a chance.

Lance tilts his head. “The tiny village in the country? Not much. Just that it has perfect weather for every season. Has for the past...” he trails off, understanding lighting up his eyes.

“I thought Coran was crazy when he mentioned it,” Keith says, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. The witch hunter had probably been Lance’s source too; both of them have been using the same sources for the past couple decades. Witch hunter indeed. Keith makes a mental note to set the man up for a miracle if this lead turns out to be right.

Lance pulls out his phone – one of the new smart ones Keith’s still never managed to figure out. (He’s convinced Lance is behind the invention, but he won’t give the demon the satisfaction of knowing how stumped Keith is by it.) He waits patiently while Lance does whatever it is that people do on those things.

Finally, Lance looks up at him, triumph on his face. “There’s a kid. Born the same day. In the same area. Takashi Shirogane. He might be our mark.”

“Same area. You don’t mean...” Keith narrows his eyes. “The Voltron Nunnery? Weren’t you in charge of the baby-swap?”

“Stop living in the past!” Lance declares. He pats Keith on his hip as he walks past. “I’m driving.”

Keith shivers. Lance is a _terrible_ driver; he likes to go at least 15 mph over the speed limit and never pays attention to things like stop lights or yellow lines. Even so, it isn’t worth arguing. They’re both immortal, and this _is_ an emergency. He can spare a hint of power to ensure that no mortals are damaged en route. “Fine,” Keith agrees. “But we approach the child on my terms.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “We’ll see.”

“We will indeed,” Keith agrees.

The two of them climb into Lance’s bright blue sports car. An angel and a demon speeding off to stop the apocalypse; it’s like the start of a terrible story.

But Keith will make sure it doesn’t end as poorly as it began.

**Author's Note:**

> My socials:  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/rinthegreat_ao3)  
> [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/rinthegreat/)


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